“In my mind, I’m a builder in the traditional, 15th century way. I like building nice structures. Whatever else it takes to do that, I’ll do it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you need. Anything. Just take me back.”

“Not likely!” Howl yelled. “I’m a coward. Only way I can do something this frightening is to tell my self I’m not doing it!”

“I’m not sure what I’ll do, but— well, I want to go places and see people. I want my mind to grow. I want to live where things happen on a big scale.”

“I feel like I'm 45. And I act like I'm 35. When I start to feel like I don't have the energy to do the job, whatever my age, I’ll walk away and write my book”

“I’ll survive,” Floyd said. “I’m a private detective. If I don’t get clouted on the head at least once a week, I’m not doing my job properly.”

“I guess I’ll do what everyone else does: get on with my life and forget the big questions.”

“If this is love, no thanks. I don’t want any part of it. When I’m older, I’m just going to do my own thing. If I like a boy, fine, I’ll date him, but I’m not going to sit at home and cry over him. I cry over important things.”

“Justice is my being allowed to do whatever I like. Injustice is whatever prevents my doing so.”

“I’ll take your bet,” he said grimly. “I’m going to win it. And in three months, I’m going to put this back on your finger, and take you to bed, and do things to you that are outlawed in the civilized world.”